island thoughts. the difference four years make.

The rain never came.

King Solomon, the weather ap, the forecasters behind that free tool – they were all wrong.

And we were grateful.

We held the day like a gift (as all days are).

Fripp Island.

It’s been four years since we last visited.

And goodness, how the years have changed us.

Years measured by the height of my son against the waves.

And I can’t stop myself from saying . . .

“Last time we were here -”

Otto didn’t even exist!

Piper Finn was wearing swim diapers.

The preschool crowd we ran with was afraid of waves.

No one except Riley could even swim.

And now.

And now!

Wave jumping. Underwear wearing. Swimming.

Otto certainly exists!

Such a vision to try to permanently upload to the recesses of my brain –

That blonde, able-bodied boy. Running as fast as his three-year-old legs could carry him, size 9 feet flip-flapping against the wet sand, hands spread open wide, racing for a gang of skinny-legged sandpipers that will always elude him, wonder child that he is.

Sweet sweet sighs.

It was a good day.

And I can tell you this – if we are going to be comparing – the family at Fripp Island this week is a whole lot healthier than the family at Fripp Island four years ago. (And I’m not talking about our diets, friends.).

And for that, far more than the surprisingly pleasant weather, I am exceedingly grateful.